“Seriously. Such a dick.” Another pillow spun at my head. I ducked and it hit the wall. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” I said, drifting closer. “You’re running out of pillows.”
She glared and grabbed the last two. “Come closer. Seriously. Come give me a kiss.”
“Only if you take off your panties first.”
She threw both pillows and I let them hit me with a laugh. She sighed and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t make me regret last night,” she said.
“I don’t think you will.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “But you’re not staying inside all day today and sulking.”
“Why not?” she asked, glancing at me.
Fuck, she was beautiful. Even with messy hair and bad breath, she was gorgeous.
“Because you lie around and feel sorry for yourself too much,” I said. “Come out and enjoy the world.”
“Don’t be a dick,” she said. “I lie around and feel sorry for myself because I’m stuck with you.”
I laughed and stood up. “Fair enough, but you’re still coming out with me.”
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I need to pick a replacement for Lorenzo,” I said. “I’ve got someone in mind. I want you to come with me while I tell him.”
She frowned and tapped at her tooth with her fingertip. “Are you sure?” she said, then ran a hand through her hair. “That sounds like mafia business.”
“You’re my wife,” I said. “It’s your business now.”
She opened her mouth then shut it again. I didn’t want to leave her home alone today, not when she’d spend all afternoon thinking about the sex and wondering if she made some horrible mistake. I wanted to bring her into my life more, if she’d let me.
“All right, fine,” she said. “Even if I’m a fake wife.”
“Political marriages can sometimes turn to real, lasting love,” I said.
She snorted. “Name one.”
“I can’t, but I’ll Google it.”
“Go away,” she said. “I’ve got to get dressed.”
“And I can’t watch?”
“No, you can’t.” She looked around. “If I had more pillows—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I said, and walked to the door. I picked one of the pillows up and threw it back at her. She caught it and laughed, then put it back under her head. “I want to leave in twenty. So hurry your ass up.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, making a face.
“Sir?” I asked, touching my chin. “I think I prefer Daddy.”
“I’ll call you Daddy the day I learn how to fly,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Twenty,” I repeated, and left her alone to get changed.
* * *
I parked outside a rundown-looking bar on Passyunk street and climbed out. Mags followed, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt that showed off a hint of cleavage. I could’ve sworn the girl was trying to tease me.
The room was smoky and dark, and the chairs were still up on the tables to the left. Gian stood behind the bar wiping glasses, and a few mafia guys sat on stools. I spotted the man I was looking for, nodded at Gian, and held up a hand to get everyone’s attention.
“I need a minute with Matteo,” I said. “You all wait outside.”
Nobody hesitated. That was good. They filed out, all except Matteo, with his dark hair and dark eyes. He glared at me like I was about to dress him down for doing something stupid. Gian remained behind the bar, wiping glasses.
I looked at him, head cocked. “Don’t you got something better to do?” I asked. “You don’t strike me as the bartending type.”
He laughed and poured himself some whiskey. “Ash usually watches it during the day but she went out for lunch,” he said. “So I’m on duty.”
“I thought I paid you to run my crew.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, shrugging. “I do that too.”
I grunted and sat down. Mags took the stool next to me, and Gian slid her a gin and tonic with a wink.
“What can I do for you, boss?” Matteo asked. He had a half-full beer in front of him and a sour look on his face.
“I know you heard about Lorenzo,” I said.
He nodded and looked down at his hands. “Fucked up,” he said. “Wasn’t right. Not his time.”
“Any time could be our time in this business,” I said, glancing at Mags. She sipped her drink and said nothing. “He was a good man. Replacing him is going to be tough.”
Matteo grunted and rapped his knuckled on the bar. “Damn right it’ll be hard,” he said. “Lorenzo had respect, you know? Can’t be a leader without it.”
I leaned toward him. “Do you have respect?” I asked.
He eyed me for a moment. “I might,” he said.
“How many guys in Lorenzo’s crew do you know?”
He leaned back and studied me before answering. “This seems like it’s a job interview,” he said.
“That’s because it is.” I cocked my head. “How many do you know?”
“Close with a couple,” he said, eyes narrowed and face serious. “I know the rest well enough.”
“Would they follow you?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away. I liked that. If he said yes immediately, I’d think he was a liar, saying whatever he needed to say in order to get the job. If he said no, then he was too timid.
But hesitating, and thinking, that showed he wasn’t just a smoking gun and a knife in the dark. He had some brains.
“I think so,” he said. “Most of them at least. Some are broken up about Lorenzo and won’t follow anyone at all until they get over it.”
I nodded and glanced at Gian. He grinned at me and shrugged a little, like that was the best answer he could’ve heard.
“You know Lorenzo was fighting on the front lines,” I said.
Matteo shrugged. “You gave him all the best jobs.”
“Gian too,” I said, nodding toward the Capo cleaning glasses like some hourly barman. “That right, Gian? You think the Healy family’s soft?”
“Not yet,” Gian said. “But they will be.”
I snorted. “What do you think, Matteo? You want to get your hands
